


Cora

by AvaJune



Series: Exotic Pets [1]
Category: Seduce Me (Visual Novel)
Genre: AU-The boys are still in the demon world, Angst with a Happy Ending, Eventual Smut, Hurt/Comfort, Non-Graphic Rape/Non-Con, human slavery
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-11
Updated: 2017-09-08
Packaged: 2018-12-14 06:18:18
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 14,819
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11777220
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AvaJune/pseuds/AvaJune
Summary: In the human plane, the demon black market existed so that demon's currently living there could get their hands on any number of seedy and likely illegal items. The market had another function, however, and this function is what allowed it to operate with relative immunity, demons of the Abyssal Plains turning a blind eye in favor of getting what they wanted. And what they wanted, more often than not, were exotic human pets.A story in which each son is reluctantly given a human pet, and despite their moral objections, they must take care of the humans as best they can.This is Damien's Story.





	1. God, I want to dream again

In the human plane, the demon black market existed so that demon's currently residing there could get their hands on any number of seedy and likely illegal items. The market had another function, however, and this function is what allowed it to operate with relative immunity, demons of the Abyssal Plains turning a blind eye in favor of getting what they wanted. And what they wanted, more often than not, were exotic pets.

The human slavers could procure any human a demon business specified, selecting such characteristics as hair color, eye color, body shape (though of course that could be manipulated,) age, and many other traits. There were also large batches of unspecified pets sent to the Plains, a group of humans who had not yet been bought and would be displayed as available for purchase. It was with this idea in mind that the Demon Lord stomped through the market with an air of annoyance, trailed by his 5 sons. While many pets were designated for harems or pleasure houses, to have a personal pet was a luxury few could afford. It was also a luxury he had purchased for the ingrates who dared to call themselves his sons many times over. Their pets had an unfortunate habit of going missing, and since he couldn't keep an eye on them all the time, he tortured and beat his sons mercilessly after. So far, this had not phased them, even when he had been particularly violent. He suspected they were somehow sending them back to the human plane, but they covered for each other and it was impossible to catch one in the act. But now, he had them where he wanted them and they would have their human pets and that would be the damn end of it. Which is why, as loathe as he was to do it, Izroul had been allowed on this outing and would be receiving his own pet.

No demon would want to touch him, being the bastard he was and the son of a harem slut. But as his sons grew older, their appetites grew bigger, and Izroul had begun to starve. He ate food from the kitchens, but as an incubus without sexual energy, he was always sick and always weak, and he would eventually die. Frankly, that suited the Demon Lord just fine; he would have had him killed anyway if he was worth the trouble. His brothers, the only demons who would get near him, could not provide him the kind of energy he needed to survive. But finally, the bastard was actually being useful to him, although unintentionally.

Raestro had come to him and made him an offer. To Raestro's thinking, he could continue to buy pets and have the boys "misplace" them (not that Raestro was admitting anything like that happened,) and beat them and torture them and then start all over again. Raestro pointed out that was a huge waste of time on the Demon Lord's part and while he wanted to ring Raestro's scrawny fucking neck, he had to agree with his heir. It WAS a huge waste of time and he didn't exactly have a lot of time to spare with being the ruler of a horde of unruly demons. As an alternative, all of the boys would agree to keep their pets and no more would "run away" or "get lost" or anything else, on the condition that Izroul also receive a pet. He had not been included in the previous sets (because why the hell would the Demon Lord give that waste of space anything) but maybe Izroul was a better bargaining chip than the ruler had realized. The Demon Lord was not in the habit of making deals with anyone, but frankly, this whole thing had started to piss him off. So he nodded to Raestro and told him that if they lost these, THEY would be the ones for sale at market and he would just fucking live forever, eliminating the need for an heir altogether. Raestro quietly added that Izroul would need a place to house this pet and with the Demon Lord bellowing behind him, he left, having managed to secure his brother an energy source and an old, unused wine cellar as a room.

The Demon Lord reached the slave auction, where exotic pets and demon slaves where available for purchase. Grumbling, he made his way to the area where the products were being displayed. Some were in cages, some were strung up and others hogtied. As he walked by, he listened to the descriptions the slaver provided him, examining the pets until he found one he felt suitable to one of his sons. He then indicated which son should come and take possession of his pet. With any luck, he'd get this done quickly and be back with plenty of time to ravage a few harem girls before he had to do any actual work.

  
***

  
So much blood and dirt coated her eyes that she could hardly see anything, even though some of the swelling had gone down in the recent days. She was tied to a post and gagged, while recent knife wounds on her shoulders and chest bled freely. She gave up trying to see who was approaching her, and kept her head down, hiding her face behind a curtain of filthy hair.

The slaver was talking to someone. "This one, my lord, is available at a steep discount. But I would advise against her."

A deep voice joined the slavers and she felt gooseflesh cover her body at the sound. "And why is that?"

"She's undisciplined and completely feral," he sighed, shaking his head sadly. She could see them now and she sat silently, unmoving, waiting for the right time to strike. "Honestly, I have no idea what she actually looks like because by the time we got her, she was bruised and bloodied beyond recognition. They tried to beat her into submission, but I can't say it entirely worked."

The Demon Lord grunted, wrapping a hand in her hair and wrenching it at a painful angle. He scoffed. "Doesn't look like much to me. Seems pretty docile all actu-"

She took advantage of the moment to kick the Demon Lord in the shin as hard as she could, bruising her foot in the process, but earning her a lovely string of profanities as he hopped on one foot before growling and kicking her in the head, knocking her out cold.

"Fucking Bitch!" He yelled, beyond pissed. "Who the fuck would buy-"

He paused, suddenly remembering he had a son for whom he had to provide a pet. A son he was annoyed he had to purchase one for in the first place. He looked at the slaver. "What's the discount?"

The slaver raised his eyebrows. "Well, considering that display, I would go as high as 70%."

The Demon Lord scowled. "85%."

The slaver opened his mouth to argue, but the Demon Lord eyed him with a glare and bared his teeth. The man stuttered out, "Of course, My Lord," before noting the purchase in his book.

The Demon Lord turned and grimaced. "Izroul, this is the pet for you. It fits, Bastard."

With one last look of disgust at what was now Izroul's pet, the Demon Lord spit on it's cheek before moving on with the slaver.

Waiting long enough for his father to no longer pay him any mind, Izroul stepped forward and bent down to study the new human. She was filthy, swollen, and he wasn't even sure what she would look like under all the layers of grime and pain, but she was his. He smiled gently at the first companion he had ever been allowed, aside from his brothers, and stroked her matted hair softly.

Uzaeris grinned down at his brother, watching Izroul try to hide his excitement. "I think once she's gone through a bath and given some time to heal, she will be a lovely pet," he said softly.

Izroul frowned a little, looking up at him. "But she's not a pet. She's a human."

Uzaeris understood, and he felt the same. But he reminded his brother, "Yes, but Father was going to force us to have human pets regardless. These humans who are left will suffer far worse fates than those we bring home and care for. It would be better if they were not here, but..."

He sighed. "They are, and we simply have to make the best of it."

Uzaeris clapped his brother on the shoulder, before beginning to walk towards the rest of his brothers. "Izroul, come on," he called back to the other demon. "Pick her up; you don't want to make father angry by getting left behind."

Izroul gently untied her from the post and lifted her to his chest, letting her clothes and body soil his exposed flesh. He was confident he had never been this happy.

 

***

  
When she woke, her head felt as if it was splitting in two. She moaned and clutched her hands to her temples. She took a few deep, steadying breaths and looked around, trying to take in her surroundings. She could see nothing, her eyes still swollen and the pain in her head forcing her to be extremely light sensitive. She moved to stand, but her arms gave out immediately and she flopped back down to the floor, thankful to be landing on the bed of straw that she had been on as she woke.

"Don't move too much yet, you'll hurt yourself," came an unfamiliar voice from across the room.

She shrieked, quickly trying to stand again. Finding that impossible, she tried to scoot as far away in the opposite direction of the voice as she could, but her back quickly hit a wall. She cursed and she heard the unknown person chuckle and quickly try to hide it with a cough. She tried to use her other senses to get a sense of where she was, be prepared for whatever was coming next, but she was too weak to stand or fight. Her own blood rushed in her ears, making it impossible to rely on hearing. She smelled blood, but that was likely coming from her. She jumped when he spoke again, much closer to her than he was before.

"I know that you feel awful and I know that you don't know or trust me."

She would have rolled her eyes but it hurt too much. Still, she couldn't agree more with that statement.

"I have a potion here, it should heal most of the wounds and decrease or get rid of the swelling." She opened her mouth to tell him where he could put that potion, because it surely wasn't going in her, but he quickly talked over her.

"I know, I understand your reluctance to take it. But I want to tell you a few things before you completely refuse." His voice sounded anxious and imploring, like he was begging her to listen.

She pondered the situation and decided she didn't have anywhere to go anyway, so she made some small sound of assent.

She could hear the smile in his voice when he spoke next. "Thank you. First, you are very, very ill. I can't imagine there is much I could give you that would make you any worse than you are. Second, you have to be bathed. Even if the smell wasn't bothering both of us, the filth getting in your open wounds could make you even worse. And..."

He cleared his throat, taking a few short breaths, before continuing quickly and quietly, "I don't want to force you to be undressed in front of me so you need to be well enough to bathe yourself."

She sighed. Those were some good points. With any luck, the potion would be a poison and she would just fall asleep and never wake up. She heard the man make a pained noise before she responded.

"Give it," she rasped, her throat dry from disuse. She flinched when he touched her hand, but he gently placed the potion against her palm and removed the stopper, before stepping back.

"It should take about 10 minutes," he told her, his voice getting further away. "I'm going to go over here until you can see better. I... don't want to alarm you."

She hesitated for a moment, but then she poured the potion down her throat, giving a soft cry at the pain in her throat as it was forced to swallow the liquid. She took the time she had to wait for it to work to access her situation.

She couldn't see yet where she was, but she had been placed on a straw mat. That was promising. That was at least an attempt to provide her some small comfort. The kick to the head explained the extreme headache and all the other wounds on her body she was fairly sure were old. The voice of the man with her in this room did not match that of the asshole who kicked her. He had not yet beat her, choked her, or stripped her naked and raped her, all of which she took to be good signs. Unless this was a trick to lull her into a sense of safety before ripping it away. Well... if that were the case, she wished him luck with that. She already knew she would fight anyone who tried to hurt her and she'd likely lose, but regardless, she wasn't going to stop fighting until they killed her.

Izroul paced on the other side of the room, purposefully making noise so that she wouldn't worry where he was. He could hear her musings and couldn't help but feel affected and broken-hearted. The slavers could be so incredibly cruel. He hoped he could ensure nothing like that ever happened again. He hoped he could protect her and maybe even be friends.

10 minutes ticked by slowly and as the end neared, she opened her eyes to find that she could, in fact, see around her and she immediately took a moment to take in the room. This looked to be what was once a wine cellar, but all of the shelves had been pushed to the side of the room, leaving an open living space. A simple wooden bed with a threadbare quilt sat in the middle of the room. On closer inspection, she realized it was actually constructed from one of the shelves that were pushed towards the walls, the wood repurposed into something to sleep on. The same was true for a small dresser and nightstand. A large, jagged fragment of a mirror had been mounted above the dresser. There were hardly any personal belongings in the room, but a stuffed kitten sat next to a series of candles on the nightstand. There was also a cloth across the dresser, on top of which were placed potion bottles similar to the one in her hand. Unlike the one she had used that contained a healing potion, these were stunning. One bottle held a night sky, another a waterfall, and still another, a sunrise. She gaped at them, before finally noticing the demon crouching down on the other side of the room, studying her closely.

His body was painted in black symbols, similar to most of the demons she had seen in the market since coming here. The markings and the horns no longer gave her pause. This demon's horns resembled a ram's horns and were also black. His hair was golden with a red hue and his eyes seemed blue and then violet, depending on the flicker of the candles. His body was etched from lean muscle and between his stunning eyes and the lip he was currently biting, he was quite attractive. She tilted her head in curiosity when he suddenly blushed, looking away from her and standing up.

She stood as well, careful to keep an eye on him and be prepared for an attack. He grinned at her a little sadly. "I'm not going to hurt you," he said, and she snorted. He flinched but decided to continue. "Demons don't give their real names until they know someone very, very well, but since you are supposed to be- mine... you can call me Izroul."

He made to move across the space, but when she winced, he seemed to think better of it and stopped moving.

They looked at one another as a few moments passed before Izroul broke the silence. "Do you have a name?" he asked quietly.

She looked at him for another moment, before deciding to simply be honest. "Real names aren't anything special in the human world," she told him. "So I'll just tell you. My name is Cora."

"Cora..." he repeated softly. The way he said it almost sounded reverent and not for the first time today, Cora found herself completely confused. He sighed and smiled at her gently. He pointed to a shelf that was pulled a bit away from the wall, and she could barely make out a hint of metal behind the shelf.

"There is a makeshift bath behind there. It's not much, but I made sure that water was warm."

With slow, deliberate steps, Izroul approached the dresser and pulled out the top drawer. He removed a square piece of flannel, soap, a bottle, and a simple olive colored dress. He set them on the bed before returning to the opposite side of the room.

"The bottle is for your hair," he explained. "A little bit goes a long way."

Cora took a deep breath and considered refusing to undress. However, the allure of being clean was far too strong, so against her better judgment, she took what was offered and walked behind the shelving to find a large, metal trough full of steaming water. She stripped off the rags she had been wearing and stepped into the tub, unable to silence the moan of pleasure that escaped her at the feel of the water. The soap was infused with little jasmine flowers and the bottle smelled of lavender.

She scrubbed herself from top to bottom, relishing the feeling as the blood and sweat sloughed off. When she stood and left the tub 20 minutes later, the water was disgusting and multi-colored. She had almost forgotten about the Demon, and she noted that so far, he had done everything he had said he would and had made an effort to see to her comfort. He had given her a potion, allowed her a bath, and most surprisingly, had tried to allow her some dignity and boundaries.

Cora knew by now that she was not returning to the human world. She had been here nearly a month, shoved around and used for different degradations and humiliating purposes. She had no power here, and she wasn't ignorant enough to think that she could truly overpower a demon. She also knew no one was coming to save her and no one here was going to risk their lives to send her back, even if they could. She had truly just been trying to goad them into killing her because death was in so many ways preferable to this existence.

But this- this was different than the past month. She was now a private pet, her master one man. She was under the impression that only the rich could afford private pets and this was very modest lodging, but she certainly didn't mind. She smoothed the olive dress down her front and ran her fingers through her hair. Maybe one last try. She kicked herself mentally, she knew that belief was beyond foolish, but what did she have to lose? Maybe he was different. Maybe he would be a different kind of Master. Really, what could he possibly do that hadn't already been done? She had been prepared for death. At this point, hope cost her nothing.

Cora swallowed and took a deep breath, before softly calling his name. "Izroul?"

She heard him shift around on the other side of the shelf before he answered her. "Yes Cora?" He asked.

"This water," she told him. "It's really very dirty now. Is there somewhere I can dump it out, or...?"

"Oh, that's actually really heavy," he replied. "I can do it. Are you dressed or do you need a minute?"

Nervously, she considered lying just to get another moment to think. With a sigh, she answered, "Yes, I'm dressed. It's fine."

Izroul came around the corner and stopped moving, his mouth slightly open and his eyes widened. He stared at her.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Song for this Chapter:  
> Fireflight - Unbreakable  
> https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=pWRJAHaOrYg


	2. I'll Use You as a Focal Point

Coming around the corner, Izroul caught sight of her and felt as if he had the wind knocked from him. He knew he was staring, but he couldn't help it. Cora was beautiful.

He had heard her thoughts in the other room and his heart hurt and swelled in equal measure. She had once fantasized about death, but she would give him a chance to convince her living was worth it. He did not intend to waste that chance. 

Izroul had been so happy to have her, so pleased to bring her home with him, that he hadn't actually given any real thought to what she might look like under all the grime and bruises. He didn't really care either, because he was not one to judge by appearances and many pretty demon girls were equally cruel. Beauty was no sign of a good person. He assumed that she must not have been very attractive otherwise, she wouldn't have been treated as roughly. That was not the case and he couldn't help wondering just how badly she would have had to piss them off in order for them to be happier beating her than selling her for a large profit.

Her hair was still wet, but it hung in heavy ebony ringlets, her curls cascading down to the small of her back. They always fed the pets well, knowing that no one wanted to buy them if they were gaunt and malnourished, and Cora was certainly neither of those things. She filled out the simple dress and was entirely softness and curves. The skirt stopped at her knees and what he could see of her legs were shapely. The dress was modest with a thigh neckline and sleeves that stopped at three quarters length. Her skin was pale and creamy and her pink lips were plump but not overly full. Her eyes reminded him of Raestro's, whiskey golden.

Rather than making him happy though, he frowned. Her beauty could be a problem because he knew his father would never have picked her for him if the Demon Lord had known she looked like this. He was suddenly nervous that she would be taken away.

Izroul caught her eye briefly before he dropped his eyes to the floor and cleared his throat. Cora was thoroughly red and he realized he had been staring much longer than was really appropriate.

She gave him a very small smile before stepping around him and moving back to the main room. Carefully, Izroul upended the tub and let the dirty water splash down the drain he had installed. He reminded himself to thank Uzaeris again for helping him to get the supplies he needed to make himself a home in the forgotten and neglected part of the palace. Izroul had been able to make himself furniture, install this tub for washing, and although the room seemed exceptionally sparse, there was actually a lot more to it than one could see. Anyone ever coming here other than his brothers was beyond unlikely, but just in case, he had hidden most of his meager possessions behind a glamour. That spell would hopefully ensure that he wouldn't have his things taken away from him out of spite.

Having dumped the water, Izroul stepped back into the main room and smiled to see Cora bent at the waist, watching the stars twinkle in one of his bottles.

"Do you like it?" he asked, startling her. She recovered quickly and grinned at the question.

"Of course I do!" she replied, her voice taking on a dreamy quality. "These are beautiful."

He nodded and then cleared his throat.

"Are you hungry?" he asked, thinking that the kitchen should be fairly empty this time of day. He knew humans needed to eat 3 times a day or so, and they needed water to survive. Cora's back stiffened and she was silent for a moment, before standing up and turning to meet his eyes.

"Are you?" she asked, a hard edge to her voice.

Izroul squinted and looked at her with a confused expression. "Am I what?"

Cora laughed, her voice cracking and betraying her fear.

"I know what you are, you know," she told him. "I'm not stupid."

He raised an eyebrow, mouth set in a grim line. "And what am I, then?" He asked.

She blushed and even though he was annoyed at her, he still had to fight a grin at how cute her flushed face was. She balled up her fists and placed them on her hips.

"You're an Incubus. Obviously."

Izroul worried his bottom lip between his teeth and bit back his annoyed answer. He had done nothing but be kind to her and for once, he was supposed to be the one being treated with respect and decency.

He opened his mouth to tell her as much, but all that came out was a pain filled moan before he hit his knees on the floor. He needed energy, and this was exceptionally bad timing. Cora looked at him with concern, undecided on how to handle this situation.

"Izroul, what's happening? Do I need to get someone or..." Cora trailed off, her voice uncertain.

He grimaced and tried to force a smile. "No, I'm fine. Just give me a moment."

Cora squatted down, trying to get a look at his face, but Izroul purposefully dropped his chin to his chest in an attempt to hide his eyes. He could hear her uncertainty as well as the way she was filled with surprising (considering her previous thoughts) compassion and empathy rustling about her thoughts. He startled when she crawled towards him, slowly, willing herself to take big breaths and not give in the fear. When she reached him, she mirrored his position, sitting back on her heels.

Then she placed a finger under his chin and very gently lifted his face. He tried not to pant or cry out. He was so hungry and she smelled so amazing and the whole point of having her was supposed to be so this wouldn't happen. But... he couldn't just take from her like that. No matter what their father said, Cora was a human being. He liked humans, and he wanted Cora to like him too. But there was nothing he could do about his eyes as she gazed at the pained expression on his face. They were quickly turning golden with hunger, and if Cora knew what an Incubus was, she knew what this meant too.

When her eyes met his, he saw her bite her lip and her pupils dilate. He moaned, barely keeping a leash on his need.

Suddenly, Cora's hands were on his chest, pushing him onto his back. He let out a grunt of surprise as he found himself staring at the ceiling. All at once Cora's leg swung over him and she settled on top of him, straddling his hips.

Izroul grit his teeth, straining against the pain and the desire that was growing by the second. Cora's voice seemed to be coming from very far away. She put her hand on his cheek and he winced. "Izroul... you need energy, don't you?"

He shook his head emphatically. "I'm fine, I'll be fine," he whimpered. "Please, just give me a moment."

Cora could see him trying so hard not to give into his instincts and it made her heart warm. It wasn't okay for him to be in pain, but it was also an unexpected and very appreciated kindness that some level of consent actually mattered to him. This demon was like none she had met yet.

'Well,' she thought to herself. 'I did say I was going to give this a solid try...'

"Please," she said, bringing her lips a breath away from his. "It's okay. Please let me help you."

Izroul searched her mind quickly but saw only compassion, apprehension, and the tiniest seed of desire. It wasn't much, but it was enough to convince him of her sincerity. His eyes turned to gold as he began the enthrallment spell and he reached up to press his lips to Cora's, swallowing her gasp as the enthrallment ran through her.

***

A week had passed since Cora came to the castle. Demons in the Abyssal Plains did not sleep; they don't need to, and since they were much more vulnerable in their sleep, it wasn't worth the risk. But Izroul had Cora and Cora was human. She needed her rest and Izroul loved it when she slept, giving him the opportunity to watch her as she dreamed. This morning, he was watching her eyelids flutter near wakefulness when his reverie was broken by the sound of his ward being breached, signaling that someone was approaching his room. Standing up, he walked towards the door and listened for the thoughts of whoever was coming. He growled at who he heard.

'-Disgusting, Bastard son, why is he even included... messenger to that disgusting demon, how low I must have fallen... the bleeding harem girl would do better to have gotten rid of him before he was born-'

The intruder reached the bottom of the stairs and spied the demon waiting for him.

The Pig Faun eyed Izroul, distaste plain on his features. He wasted no time delivering his message. "You are ordered to the throne room in one hour. Bring your pet."

Izroul glared at the Demon Lord's servant, his suspicion clear on his face.

"Why do I have to bring her? What's going on?"

The Pig Faun smiled with sinister glee. "You'll see, Bastard Son," he said with a sickly smile.

Izroul watched him go and felt a shudder go through his body. This was not going to be good; he was sure of it.

***

Cora woke coccooned into the blanket (which was significantly less threadbare than the glamour made it seem) on her Demon's bed, still reveling in the feeling of being well rested after a month of sleep deprivation. She slowly let her eyes open and sleepily looked around the room.

"Izroul?" she muttered, not seeing him. Suddenly, she felt an overwhelming wave of panic. He was always here when she woke up. Why was she alone? The possibilities were enough to drive her mad.

'No control,' she remembered, 'I have no control.'

Her chest siezed up and she found it hard to breathe. 'He's the only nice one. Oh my God, I thought I might be alright.'

Tears stung her eyes and she started to wheeze. Distantly, she was aware she was having a panic attack, but the knowledge did nothing to soothe her.

'So stupid. Hope was so stupid. I'm so stupid. I thought maybe... but no.' She couldn't, she just couldn't do this again. A wail escaped her throat before she knew she was making noise.

"Cora?!?!?"

Oh! It was his voice, and as he turned the corner, her sobs changed and she wept with relief. His eyes were filled with concern and when she reached an arm towards him, he quickly crossed the room and climbed onto the bed. Izroul pulled her into his lap and ran his fingers through her hair.

"Cora, please, tell me what's wrong so I can fix it."

She knew he could read minds, but she suspected her mind was far too jumbled at the moment for that gift to do him any good. Cora focused herself enough to get the thought across.

'I can't breathe.' He nodded and began to take deep, settling breaths.

"Match your breathing to mine, it's okay," he muttered softly. She felt the pull of an enthrallment lull her into quiet and she relaxed in his grip, concentrating on her breathing.

"Better?" he asked, his words jumbled as he spoke through Cora's hair.

She met his golden eyes with a small smile. "Better," she replied.

Izroul ran a finger down her jaw, his face still pained. "What happened, Cora? I don't understand."

In her mind, Izroul saw the whole thing, all the thought processes and the fear as she ran back through it. He flinched and pulled her tighter.

"I'm sorry," he whispered. "One of my father's servants came. I went out to meet him before he got here, so he wouldn't disturb you."

Her laugh was tight and there was no amusement. "Oh," she said quietly. "I've become so ridiculous."

Izroul shook his head. "You aren't ridiculous."

Cora sniffled and ran her arms up to wrap around his neck. She looked at him intently, and he could tell she was debating something so he tried to not listen. He waited patiently, counting backwards from 300 in an attempt to focus on the numbers. Finally, she nodded and seemed to set her mind to something. She opened her mouth to speak.

"Before... here. Before the Abyssal plains, I had a whole life. I had dreams and I was going to start my junior year of college in the fall. I was studying to teach English Literature, actually. I had friends, parents who loved me, wanted good things for me..." She laughed sadly. "I even had a boyfriend. I mean, I didn't love him, not yet at least, but he was nice. Charming."

She smiled at Izroul, a small but genuine smile. "Boring, to be perfectly honest, but it was good."

She began to pick at her fingers, not meeting his eyes anymore. "Then they came and they took me and, well... you can imagine. It was terrifying. This world was supposed to be fantasy; I thought maybe I had a mental break and none of this was real."

She sighed. "Anyway. Once I realized it was real, I fought them. Tooth and nail. I had never been a very physical person, had a low pain tolerance, but I guess you don't really know what you will do in these situations until you're in them. So, it turns out, my survival instinct isn't quite as strong as my drive not to submit."

Cora looked up and caught his eye. She seemed to be trying to puzzle something out. "There were 2 harems, before you. There was... torture. Rape. Humiliation. It didn't matter, I was so unbelievably angry. I wouldn't give them what they tried to take, I fought for every piece they demanded and even though they forced me to do things, I made it hard for them. I never gave them all of me."

Her hands ran through Izroul's hair and he shivered under her fingers. "Then came you. It's been so easy with you. You demand nothing, and it makes it so easy to give you anything. I don't mind it, I like taking care of you in whatever way I can. I like giving you energy and I like, just... being with you. When I woke up and you weren't here..."

She trailed off and seemed to struggle with what she wanted to say.

"When you weren't here," Cora tried again, "I realized that the life we have together, this was a life that could be worthwhile. Nothing else in the demon world so far would qualify as a life that may be better than death. But life with you- it has hope. Potential. I- if that was stolen from me, I'm not... entirely sure I wouldn't just break, you know?" Cora swallowed, trying to keep her voice even.

"I know it was irrational to get upset just because you weren't in the room. But, my brain wasn't really thinking rationally, obviously. I... I'm sorry. I'm babbling aren't I?" She laughed and leaned forward to rest her head on Izroul's chest.

"Anyway," she sighed with a small amile. "What did the servant want?"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Song for this Chapter:  
> Amber Run - I Found  
> https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Yj6V_a1-EUA


	3. Dreams Ran like Sand

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There is Non-Con touching in this chapter. It is not graphic, but it is there.

Izroul and Cora stood to the back of the group, waiting in the throne room for the Demon Lord to arrive. His brothers were there beside their own pets, but even that was not enough to totally upset his mood. He smiled quietly to himself as he listened to Cora turn things over in her mind. She was studying the posture and the expressions of each demon in the room and he wondered where exactly she learned to do such a thing. Cora had a tendency to try to put people into boxes and categories and Izroul was lucky enough that he got to listen to her do it.

'That one looks so young, like a child of 15 or 16,' she was thinking. 'Izroul said he himself is the youngest but Izroul is a man and this demon is still so much a boy. Looks can be deceiving, I suppose. He looks at the girl with him with something akin to awe. I wonder if he really is as sweet as he looks.'

Her focus shifted to Uzaeris. 'He's come to visit before, but he's so different here. He isn't like that, all the seduction and sexual innuendo, when no one who cares is watching. He's kind. And smart, to hide that kindness in this hell hole.'

Izroul bit back a comment as her eyes settled on Aomaris. 'That one,' she smused, looking towards the green adorned demon, 'looks to be your best friend or your greatest enemy, depending on whether he likes you or not. Gruff, and he lets too much of himself show. No poker face what-so-ever; it will only hurt him, in the end.'

Raestrao, however, she seemed unable to get a handle on. 'Respectful. Polite. But his eyes, they vacillate between emptiness and... sorrow. But there is darkness here, scratching beneath the surface. Maybe...'

Izroul shook his head back and forth and wondered how on earth she could glean so much simply by laying eyes on a person. He tried to remind himself to ask her when they are allowed to return to the safety and quiet of his room.

A few minutes later the Demon Lord finally walked through the double doors, shouting orders at 3 different servants that trailed behind him. As always, Father looked tired and angry.

"And for the love of all that is fucking holy, run a bath in my chamber and tell anyone else who wants to talk to me to fuck off!" The Demon Lord sighed while standing in front of his sons and rubbed his temples as if he could will a headache away. He grunted at them before he turned on his heel and strode out of the throne room.

Raestro huffed before he said, "Well, let's go then," and followed him out.

 

\---

 

They walked down a wide corridor that it seemed ran the length of the palace, with little alcoves and passages snaking off of it in all directions. When the Demon Lord turned left onto one such path, Cora noted that every single demon's shoulders stiffened. She reached to take Izroul's hand, but he yanked it away.

"Don't show him a weakness." he murmured quietly.

Cora gave him a scornful look, noting that she had only reached out to comfort HIM and that no one was watching them, but if he was listening to her thoughts, he didn't comment. They descended a steep stone staircase with Izroul bringing up the very rear and Cora walking directly in front of him. The sounds bleeding through, growing louder as the climbed down, were hardly reassuring. The eyes of the sons were mostly glazed over, trying to distance themselves mentally from where they were going.

Only two appeared to have any expression at all. Izroul's eyes held pity and shame; Aomaris's were full of undisguised rage.

The Demon Lord led them to a large room, with a dozen or so doors that led to various smaller chambers. Some doors were open, but others were not. If the contents of the open rooms were similar, Cora was absolutely sure she didn't need to see the others. Blood, filth, even limbs littered the floors. The scent of copper and rot was so intensely strong that she thought she might vomit and judging by the looks of the other girls, she was not the only one. The sounds seemed far away, but painful in their intensity, as if even lack of proximity could not completely dispel the tone of their agony.

"This," said the Demon Lord, sweeping his hand out and gesturing to the room around him with a wide grin, "This is where the training happens."

He sighed again, but this time it was the sigh of a man sinking into a hot bath after a long day, or smelling his favorite food still hot from the oven. His sigh was that of a man (or demon) completely content. He glanced around the little audience he had gathered, his eyes already half-lidded. Each demon boy had tucked his companion behind him, trying to shield her.

The Demon Lord smiled and directed his speech to the humans in the room. "My sons, to my complete and utter fucking fury, refuse to learn how to properly train a harem girl, slave, or pet."

The smile hadn't left his lips but Cora couldn't help the uneasy feeling caressing her body, making gooseflesh prickle up her arms.

"So, I think it's time we establish how this is going to go, once and for all." His face fell as a he growled and looked at each of his sons. "If we have to do this again, the time I waste on any of you will come out of your flesh as payment."

Raestrao spoke up then, his face still impassive. "What would you have us do, Father?"

The Demon Lord smirked and Cora felt a cold shiver that had nothing to do with the temperature run down her back. "Not you, boy," he answered, his smile widening. "Your pets."

He turned, indicating the closed doors behind them. "Choose one, little humans."

Again, the eldest demon spoke for them all. Cora noted distantly that as the heir, he was probably the one who could be the most free with his speech. "Why are you doing this, Father? What waits beyond this room?"

The Demon Lord snarled at Raestrao and his the girl behind the eldest's back flinched. "I have been FAR too lenient with you and all it has brought me is a number of 'missing' and 'lost' humans, as well as the loss of a bloody fortune's worth of gold."

His gaze swept the room, locking onto each of his son's faces once more. No one flinched, but none but Raestrao and Aomoris met his eye either. "You boys," he spat, "Remember that you caused this. You did this. Now, your word is not enough."

The Demon Lord's voice increased in volume and like a gust of wind, fear filled the room. It was so solid one could almost feel it cut into one's skin. Some of the girls hit their knees, bowled over from the force of it. Cora shuddered, her hands shaking, but she stood her ground.

"You will make her submit to you. You will show me her will is broken to yours," he told the five demons before him with a cruel smile. "And the next time a pet disappears, I will not be lied to and told she was a runaway. It will be because YOU sent her away and you will pay the price that I paid for her 10 times over in blood."

His voice was authority and terror melded into one. Based on the looks on the demon sons' faces, they had failed to understand just how angry their father was.

"You break them, boys," the Demon Lord spat at them. "Break them, or I will."

Rage, indignation, and characteristic stubbornness poured into her veins like fire. The atmosphere of fear was gone, leaving each person to feel only their own emotions. Cora crossed the room in quick strides, passing so close to the Demon Lord that if she swung her arms while walking she would have touched him. She continued past him, opened her door, and stepped inside.

 

\---

 

Izroul felt his gut clench painfully. This was not good. The Demon Lord sometimes beat him just because he was bored and now he might actually have a reason to. But it wasn't Izroul who would be harmed, no, because Father had a person Izroul lo- cared for. Deeply. And Cora was Cora; hot-headed, defiant and proud, and so much more beautiful than his father would have guessed. Nothing about this situation was going to work in their favor.

He followed her into the room and closed the door. The area was actually one of the cleaner, nicer ones. There were 2 chairs, instead of a bed, and a carpet lay between the two seats which faced one another. Izroul tried to take the little time they had to convince Cora to do what they needed to in order to get out of this room, but even as he pled and begged she said nothing, simply shaking her head.

"Cora, I'm begging you," he said quietly, right by her ear so no one else would hear. "Just pretend, just act. It will never be like this in our room, but I can't-"

Izroul's voice trailed off and Cora finally looked up at his face. He watched the uncertainty and ambivalence flash in her eyes.

"What?" whispered Cora. "You can't what?"

He gently took her head in his hands, thumbs stroking her cheek bones. "I can't 'train you', as he calls it. I just can't," he whispered brokenly. "But if you deny him, then he will hurt you, and that cannot happen either, Cora. Nobody comes out of this dungeon whole. Every person who comes here loses something."

He sighed and grit his teeth, feeling helpless and weak. "Your pride would be the least painful to part with," he muttered.

Cora's eyes burned with fire and she glared at him, pushing his hands away.

"And what about my very identity? What about my soul?" Cora hissed at him, fierce and unbending. "Shall I leave those here as well? Because that's the price of submission, Izroul. Not for every person, perhaps, but for me it is. I am not a woman who can live on her knees and not wish for oblivion."

Cora's shoulders straightened and her chin jutted out. The fierce look of determination on her face was breathtaking even as it was heartbreaking. "I'll take whatever he gives me, but in return, he will get only screams and nothing more. I will not sell my soul, Izroul. I won't do it."

Before Izroul could reply, the door flew open and the Demon Lord swept in, collapsing into one of the comfortable arm chairs and cracking his neck. He eyed Izroul with disdain but when he turned his appraisal to Cora, Izroul's heart stuttered. The Demon Lord's eyes widened imperceptibly and his mouth parted.

"For fucks sake Bastard, THIS is the pet I bought you?!?"

Izroul took a steadying breath before meeting his father's eyes and nodding.

"Well, well," the Demon Lord smirked. "Under all that shit was a pretty face and a delicious figure. Didn't you luck out."

He extended his hand towards Cora who had retreated to a corner on the far side of the room. "Come here, girl."

Izroul silently prayed she would do what he said and watched, unsurprised, as she did not.

He closed his eyes. When had his prayers ever been answered?

'Apparently not today,' he thought with a suppressed sigh when Cora still made no move towards the Demon Lord, instead squaring her shoulders and staring at the floor between them defiantly.

Father chuckled. "This should be fun."

He turned his attention back to his son. "Sit, Bastard. Seems we'll be here awhile."

Shock took over Izroul for a moment; he was confident his father had never offered him a chair in his life. But then he thought that at least one of them should probably be trying to appease his father, so he sat.

When he looked up again, his father wasn't looking at him. The Demon Lord's eyes were locked on the corner and he looked far too excited. Izroul had to force himself not to panic.

"I said," the Demon Lord commanded, "Come. Here."

Izroul didn't have to look behind him to know she hadn't budged an inch. Her stubbornness was going to get them both grievously injured.

"Alright," said the Demon Lord with a put on sigh. "Let's do it this way then."

Izroul was unprepared for the blow to his cheek and he fell to the floor with the force of it. There were no broken bones, but the hit was enough to make him feel disoriented. He heard her gasp behind him and her bare footsteps echoed on the floor as she rushed to help him up. He was already in the chair again by the time she reached the pair of them.

The Demon Lord smiled broadly. "That's better."

Cora grit her teeth and stared at the carpet.

"Now, take off that dress and let me see what you're hiding under there."

Cora's face contorted into a snarl, but she glanced at Izroul and her eyes suddenly held less fire than before. She ripped the dress over her form and tossed it into the corner.

Izroul struggled desperately with his anger. He yearned, needed to protect her. But if he interfered here, his father would make it so much worse for her. He couldn't let that happen to her, and so he bit the inside of his cheek and remained silent.

The Demon Lord leaned forward and wrapped a hand around her wrist, yanking Cora towards him with enough force to bruise. Instinctively, Cora screamed with indignation and kicked, scratched and pounded on the Demon Lord. He raised an eyebrow in amusement before wrenching her wrist back so severely that Izroul was surprised it didn't snap. Her pained cry had him forgetting himself and he was out of the seat and reaching for his father before he could think better of it. The pig faun quickly stepped out from behind the Demon Lord's chair, and Izroul didn't see him coming until the dagger he held was against Izroul's throat.

"Sit!" the Demon Lord commanded, and when Izroul still hesitated, the servant pressed the sharp side harder to his neck. He couldn't protect her at all if his throat was slit, so he locked his jaw and sat.

The Demon Lord had released Cora and she stood in front of him, off to the side, rubbing her wrist and glaring at him with murderous eyes. He turned his attention back to her and looked over her figure appreciatevly.

"Well, those are some very nice tits," the Demon Lord smirked, reaching out to pinch one nipple between his finger. Cora started to fight again, but the Demon Lord looked pointedly at Izroul. Taking his cue, the Pig Faun wrenched Izroul's hair back to expose more of his neck and when Cora looked at him, the pain in her eyes threatened to break him.

"Father, stop," He pleaded. "Please, please, stop this..."

The Demon Lord ignored him, reaching up to twerk the other nipple and Cora looked at the ceiling, tears threatening to spill down her cheeks.  
Gods, he could hear her thinking.

'It's all been done before. He can't do anything new,' he heard her comforting herself in the depths of her mind.

The soothing voice in her head was matched with a frantic one and he could almost hear her internally sobbing. 'But you fought, and it kept you sane. But this time-'

When the Demon Lord put his hands between her legs, Cora's thoughts veered and became one word, over and over and over, as if she could drown out everything else. There was only one thing to make her stand still, to make her submit, and the Demon Lord had found it. Her thoughts taunted him as he begged his father to stop and let her be.

'Izroul, Izroul, Izroul, Izroul...'

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Song for this Chapter:  
> Beauty From Pain- Superchick  
> https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=eAQJje8GY3c
> 
> No official video, but this is closest.


	4. Make me feel Love

Cora sat in the metal tub with her knees curled up to her chest. Izroul softly gathered her hair, moving it to the front of her shoulder before picking up a scrap of fabric out of the warm water and running it across her back and shoulders. Cora breathed deeply and attempted to relax the tension that had been coursing through her body ever since the Demon Lord had forced her to remove her dress. It had been degrading, humiliating, and unbearable.

The problem was she hadn't been able to fight, not with Izroul in danger. When she fought, she was so angry it drowned out everything else. Without rage, there was only sorrow and shame.

She had to find a way to survive this, to somehow continue moving forward and continue hoping that life with Izroul would be something worthwhile because Cora really did think that he was someone she wanted to be with. Otherwise, she was back to where she started; no hope to stay alive for. She didn't want to return to that place, where life seemed like a burden instead of a blessing. 

"I'm sorry," said Izroul quietly. "I wish that I could tell you something like this would never happen again. I would... give anything for that to be true."

He slowly lifted his eyes to gaze longingly at the curls that lay at the base of her neck. "But I can't tell you that. He's a cruel man, and as long as we're here, we'll never truly be safe."

Izroul felt tears begin to well up in his eyes, and he did his best to swallow them down. "I hope that in the meantime, I can... be enough. Enough to make this life livable, even if only temporarily."

The cloth ran between her shoulder blades and she shivered at the sensation of warm water dripping down her spine.

"Cora," he said to her imploringly, "I promise you, I will not give up. I will find a way to make you safe again, and that will probably mean leaving the demon plane. If you want, I- I will go with you. Even if that means leaving everyone, leaving my brothers... You will be safe."

She shook her head slowly, gazing back at him with cautious eyes. "You would leave all the people here that you love, just to be with me?"

Izroul looked at the floor, studying the ground right in front of his knees. He blushed deeply, taking a ragged breath.

"Cora," he chuckled nervously, "Do you really not know? With you, it was almost instant. It's impossible to know you and not fall in love with you."

Cora looked at her demon, her Izroul, and grew wide-eyed at his words. She had been abducted, tortured, and assaulted in the demon plane and the only thing those experiences had provided her was rage and despair. Until him. Izroul was compassionate, beautiful, and kinder than any man Cora had ever met. Whether on the human plane or the demon plane, she knew that there was not another like him, and therefore, not another for her.

Izroul groaned, almost sounding as if he had been wounded. "Cora," he whispered. "Do you mean that? Those things you just thought, did you- do you really feel that way?"

She gave him a small smile. "Yes," she answered simply.

Izroul smiled broadly, surging forward to meet her in a kiss over her shoulder. Cora found his happiness to be contagious, and couldn't help giggling into his kiss at the sight of his fervor. Slowly, the kiss ended, Izroul's hands finding her hips and lifting her gently from the bathtub. Neither paid any mind to the droplets that ran off Cora's wet body as he carried her across the room.

 

\---

 

With a deep sigh, Izroul lay her on the bed and took a moment to stand back and simply look at the beautiful form before him. He had never dared hope that one day someone would want him, someone would love him. The gift of Cora's acceptance, even further the fact that she felt that he provided her with something worthwhile, was intoxicating and humbling at the same time. He thought back to their conversation moments ago when he had told her that he would leave his life and his brothers behind if only to keep her safe. He had meant it too. He'd never known love, at least not the kind that he felt for Cora. She hadn't said that she loved him, but if she would allow him, Izroul intended to spend the rest of his life trying to earn that love.

He felt his face flush as he asked her very quietly," I want- I want to be with you. As in, I want t-"

"Yes," she interrupted, voice breathy and pupils blown wide.

Izroul swallowed thickly. As much as he hoped for it, that was not the answer that he expected. How could he, the bastard son of the Demon Lord, even begin to prepare for the fact, the thought, that someone would allow him in their bed? It had been years since anyone aside from his brothers had so much as uttered one kind word in his direction. Now, the most stunning woman he had ever seen was panting naked upon his bed, and she wanted him. He almost froze, overwhelmed by the sight of her.

Then Cora let her legs fall open, revealing delicate and delicious looking folds. That space between her legs had to be the prettiest sight in all creation, he was sure of it. He found himself moving forward on instinct.

Cora gasped beneath him as the enthrallment spell took hold and Izroul stole the rest of her breath with a deep kiss. He could not move his hands fast enough as he explored her body as if he had never seen anyone or anything so beautiful. And that was true, because to him, there had never been a more perfect woman than the woman in his bed right now.

Izroul nibbled at her lips, listening as her breath caught in her throat before she let out a nearly silent whimper. He ran his tongue along the seam between her lips, begging for entry, and with a shudder she opened for him. He wasn't sure how she managed it, but Cora tasted of vanilla and apple spice and some taste that was simply, intrinsically her. As his tongue plundered her mouth, he thought that were he never to taste another thing, the simple taste of her kiss would be enough to sustain him for a lifetime. Cora's hands raked through his hair, her nails scratching at his scalp, and he let out a low moan as she gently tugged the strands between her fingers.

"Cora," he asked, his voice rough. He struggled to slightly pull back the enthrallment spell. "Have you... done this before? As in, have you chosen to do this with someone?"

Cora blushed and shook her head. "I have never made love with anyone. I've never consented and been taken by my own choice."

Izroul stared at her, speechless. "You- You've never had any experiences that you wanted? I-"

He paused, resigned and trying to find the words to say what he felt he needed to tell her. "I think that maybe we shouldn't do this, at least not all the way."

Cora's face betrayed the uncertainty and hurt that was thrumming beneath her skin.

"I don't understand," she said in a small voice. "Do you not want me?"

Izroul reached down and kissed her feverishly. "No, sweetheart, of course I want you," he assured her immediately. "You're smart and beautiful and kind and... Everything I've ever hoped for."

"But then why?" She asked, her face wrapped in confusion.

"You're a virgin," he told her. "Your first time should be with someone that you're in love with, someone you choose, not just the person who's available."

He took a deep steadying breath. "But don't ever think I don't want you. I will want you until the day I die."

"Izroul, are you really so completely brainwashed by what people have told you are, that you can't see what you're worthy of when it's staring you in the face?"

He looked at her, his face a mixture of sorrow and confusion.

She shook her head at him, a small laugh escaping from between her perfect lips.

"I already..." she stuttered,  "I AM in love with you. I don't want this with you simply because you're here. I want you to make love to me because you are you; because you are my Izroul."

A broken sob almost escaped, but Cora gently pressed her lips to his, swallowing the sound before it could fill the air. He returned her kiss intensely, deeply, with a hope for the future that Izroul had dared never imagine. Her hands tugged gently on the hair that rest at the nape of his neck and he groaned, little pinpricks of pleasure running through across his skin.

He gently cradled her face, running his thumbs back and forth across her cheekbones, memorizing her face so that no matter what became of them, he could remember her for all eternity. Her deft fingers made their way up the back of his head, before coming to rest on his horns. When his hand skirted down her side and her grip on him tightened, he felt as if a flame had taken up residence where his heart was.

Izroul was on fire with the need to be inside her, make her say his name; the need to make her his. Knowing that this desire came straight from his demon side did nothing to put out the flames, even as it threatened to consume them both.

"Cora," he growled, her name on a demand upon his lips. "I need you. I need you NOW."

A small piece of man, not ruled by the incubus, came to the surface long enough to ask, "Please let me have you."

She smiled sweetly up at him, her eyes filled with devotion that he knew he didn't deserve.

"I'm yours," she told him. Those words made his heart soar.

Izroul moved his lips to her throat, caressing every inch of skin he could reach. He let himself revel in the unexpectedly erotic feeling of her breath moving the soft skin there under his mouth. Her pulse against his lips felt holy and pure and her breathy sighs were the sweetest sounds he had ever heard.

Moving down the column of her throat, he nibbled on her collar bones, causing her to giggle. The giggle cut to a moan as he took one pink nipple into his mouth and gently sucked.

She wiggled underneath him, unable to stay still with the pleasure sending shock waves to her clit. He gently raked his teeth across the sensitive peak before kissing over to her other breast. He offered it the same treatment while rolling the nipple he had just abandoned between thumb and pointer finger. She let out wanton cries and moans as he teased her, her hips bucking into the air involuntarily, as he kept himself far enough away to not grant her any friction where she wanted it the most.

Cora huffed in frustration and he chuckled.

"Izroul..." she groaned as she glared at him, clearly not finding his antics amusing.

He smiled at her and then moved to where she wanted him, settling himself between her legs and resting his head on her thigh. He stroked her legs, savoring the sight and smell of her. When he looked up, she gave a little whimper and Izroul saw that her whole body was flushed. Her eyes held such heat that he couldn't help the groan that escaped him and he moved forward quickly to taste her. Her breath came out in a squeak as he licked her entire sex, before pushing into her with his tongue. Izroul's eyes almost rolled back into his head at the taste of her arousal and the taste of her energy.

He happily lapped at her clit, loving the way she moaned for him. Her thighs were shaking around his head and she was shuddering, making incomprehensible sounds of encouragement. He circled her little bundle of nerves more quickly and brought two fingers up, plunging them in and out of her hole as her cries reached higher and higher pitches. Finally, her entire body grew rigid and her walls clamped down so hard on his fingers he could barely keep moving them without fearing he would hurt her. A fresh wave of wetness rolled into his mouth and combined with the rush of energy her orgasm brought him, he began to feel distinctly drunk on her.

He licked her through it, until she started weakly pushing his head away and yanking on his hair to bring him up over her once again. She kissed him deeply, her tongue plundering his mouth. Based on her moan, Izroul was fairly confident she really, REALLY liked tasting herself on his tongue.

Cora pulled her head back to look him in the eye, her eyes somewhat dazed and still full of lust.

"Need you," she whined, her perfect lips pursing in a light pout.

Izroul's cock was already hard and aching and he certainly did not need to be asked twice. Kneeling between her hips, he ran his shaft up and down her folds, making her cry out and twitch and causing him to growl with the pleasure his motion caused. Perhaps the best part of this was in fact that he did this.

"You're so wet, sweetheart. So wet. Is this for me?" He groaned, lining himself up to push into her.

She nodded frantically. "Yes, I told you, I'm yours. I'm yours, I am... PLEASE Izroul..."

Her saying she was his, begging for him to take her, it was just too much to bear. He slid into her and relished how her body hugged him, listening to her sigh of relief just to have him right there where she needed him. She was so tight, so wet, and he had the sudden sense that this was where he belonged. His home from now till his death would be buried to the hilt inside Cora and although it felt terrifying in its magnitude, he knew at that moment that nothing would ever change that.

Pulling back, he surged forward again, reveling in how she met his thrusts. He groaned, wanting this to last forever but knowing he would not have the stamina to make it so. He hoisted her legs to wrap around his waist and reached down to that special button at the apex of her core. Having already orgasmed, she was more sensitive now and she almost sobbed from the pleasure.

He sped up his rhythm, driving them both towards an end and praying she went before he couldn't hold back anymore. Her walls fluttering around him was maddening, but when she crested and she clenched and unclenched around him rapidly, she took him over the peak with her. She milked him for every drop while he panted above her.

Cora's eyes were already closing as he rolled off her and pulled her into his side. "Thank you," Izroul whispered.

Her eyelids fluttered for just a moment before she gave him a sweet grin and drifted off to sleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Song for this Chapter:  
> Feelin' Love- Paula Cole  
> https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=QIfk0YFDChQ


	5. You're making me strong, You're making me stand

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is the HAPPY ENDING. The BAD/SAD ending is chapter 6, so be aware.

The next few days passed in a sort of blissful interlude before the next blow was bound to come. Cora and Izroul spent time together as he imagined a normal couple would, cuddling in bed and telling each other funny stories. It was quiet and calm and not something Izroul could expect to last in the Demon Realm.

'Though,' he thought to himself, 'I need to be accustomed to the name Damien now.'

Damien was planning the whole time, plotting their escape, and trying to overcome the guilt he felt at the thought of leaving his brothers behind. He knew their lives would not be forfeit if he took Cora and ran; he was hardly important enough for the Demon Lord to subject them to more than a beating, and they had already survived so many of those. It was true that Father would be angry that Izr-Damien and his beautiful pet had slipped out from under his rule, denying the Demon Lord a form of amusement he currently enjoyed.

It would not take long, however, before he'd probably be thankful to be rid of Izroul and though Cora was stunningly beautiful and a challenge to break, in the end, she was still a human. Her worth was limited to the Demon Lord.

Damien was very familiar with contacting their friend in the human world. After all, he WAS the one who sought out the elderly, warlock called Harold the most.

So he arranged for it to happen the following day when it was noon in the Abyssal Plains. Harold would open the portal on his side, funnel enough energy to turn the window-like portal they used to talk into a door instead, and... Damien and Cora would go. Harold asked him if the other boys would be there to see them off and when Damien changed the subject, the old man did not press him for details.

He just couldn't bring himself to tell them. He didn't know if they would be supportive, angry, or try to stop him. This was the first time he had ever put anyone or anything before them in his life, and it felt so... wrong.

Then he would look at her, catch Cora's hair flash ebony in the candlelight or see the affection bloom in her eyes when she saw him, and he would know unequivocally he had to do it. If they hated him, he'd have to bear it. He'd bear anything for her.

He should have known she'd see through his anguish and uncertainty.

Late in the afternoon on the day before they were set to leave, Cora walked towards him with a gentle smile and settled herself on his lap. She stroked his hair just how he liked, soft fingers soothing away his stress and his nerves. He hummed happily and went to kiss her, but she gently pulled back. When he opened his eyes to look at her, she met his gaze with a worried one of her own. He hadn't been listening to anything she was thinking, busy with his own concerns, and now he wondered if he had missed something important.

"You need to tell them," she told him gently.

Damien sighed, rubbing little circles on her hips. "Cora, I-"

She cut him off with a raise of her hand, her eyes demanding he listen. He sighed a bit ruefully but obeyed the silent request.

"If we leave but a part of you despises yourself for 'betraying' your family, we'll never really leave," she told him. "I mean it, Izroul, we have to-"

"Damien," he corrected automatically.

Cora glared at him for the interruption but continued. "As I was saying, if we have to leave, give them a chance to accept it or voice their concerns. They love you; you love them. They deserve that opportunity."

Damien was quiet as he thought it over. She was right, on a certain level, but so was he and he knew his brothers better than she did. It was not an easy decision to make and he closed his eyes as his mind tried once again to sort out all the positive and negative consequences of his choice.

 

When he opened them again, he cupped Cora's cheek and kissed her lightly in a small thank you for speaking up. "Let's go get them then," he told her with a grin.

It took an hour or so, but once had managed to gather them in his room, Damien explained what he was going to do and why. He prepared himself for censure and criticism but received none.

"Honestly," Raestro told him, "I'd thought to send you there before, but I didn't want to send you alone. There is so much we don't understand yet about the Human Realm."

He smiled softly at Cora. "But now I don't have to worry now, I suppose."

"Nope," she told the older brother, wrapping an arm around Damien's waist and kissing his cheek sweetly. "We'll take care of each other."

Damien blushed and smiled but his brother's seemed pleased for him.

Zecaeru slapped him on the back, causing him to stumble forward a bit. "Yeah man, you deserve to be happy, and you can't be happy here." He leaned in conspiratorially. "You never know, I might just follow you one day."

Aomaris said little, but gave him an awkward side hug. "It'll be nice not to have to constantly save your sorry ass," he joked, punching Damien lightly in the arm as he leaned back.

"You don't even do that..." muttered Damien, rolling his eyes. Aomaris just laughed and punched him again.

Uzaeris also hugged him, but it was a full one. "I am going to miss you so incredibly much, brother."

Damien hugged the second son back just as tight. "Me too," Damien whispered.

They all agreed to spend as much of the day together in the morning as they could without being suspicious. 

That night, as Damien watched Cora lay down to sleep her last night in the Abyssal Plains, his wards began to scream and Aomaris crashed down his stairs and into his room. 

"Father sent the Pig fawn," Aomaris growled as he started throwing Damien's things into a leather backpack. "The fucker 'demands' we join him in the throne room for another 'training' session."

Uzaeris came in behind him and glanced at Damien's preparations before moving to help put all the correspondences in place. "I knew you would be preparing for the spell, so I sent Aomaris ahead to warn you. I see he was successful." 

Uzaeris paused and glanced to where Damien still stood frozen by the bed.

"Izroul, listen to me," Uzaeris said softly, grasping his younger brother's shoulders to bring him back to the present. "Our girls heard you as well. If he hurts any of them, she may slip. We have to do this now."

"How though? Harold may not even be reachable right now," Damien answered as he quickly pulled a wide-eyed Cora from the bedsheets and clutched her to his chest.

"I'll open it. I'll use my energy," Uzaeris said firmly.

"And then myself and Aomaris will protect you and your girl from Father until you get your strength up," said Raestro, striding through the door and reassuring his second brother.

Looking at Damien, the eldest smiled sadly. "Zecaeru is slowing down the Pig Faun, so he couldn't come to say goodbye. He wanted me to give you this."

Raestro handed Damien a small stuffed kitten; one that matched his other one, the only toy he had. This kitten had a ribbon on it's head the same color as Cora's hair and it's beaded eyes matched those of the woman Damien loved.

"Thank you, all of you. I-" Damien started thickly, looking down as he tried to find the right words to say goodbye to the only people who had ever cared for him before HER.

The portal opened behind him and Cora grabbed his hand. Yelling echoed from the hallway and there was a grunt of pain as the sound of heavy footsteps approached the room.

Aomaris grimaced and stepped in front of them. " No time, little brother," he said with a crooked, sad little grin. "Live well."

Aomaris pushed them backward into the portal and watched as they, and the door into the human world, disappeared in a flash of light.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Song for this Chapter:  
> Skillet - Feel Invincible  
> https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Qzw6A2WC5Qo


	6. I mourn the loss of you sometimes and pray for peace within

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is the BAD ENDING. Therefore, it's obviously sad. Please keep that in mind before you read it. It's okay to only read the good ending.

The next few days passed in a sort of blissful interlude before the next blow was bound to come. Cora and Izroul spent time together as he imagined a normal couple would, cuddling in bed and telling each other funny stories. It was quiet and calm and not something Izroul could expect to last in the Demon Realm.

'Though,' he thought to himself, 'I need to be accustomed to the name Damien now.'

Damien was planning the whole time, plotting their escape, and trying to overcome the guilt he felt at the thought of leaving his brothers behind. He knew their lives would not be forfeit if he took Cora and ran; he was hardly important enough for the Demon Lord to subject them to more than a beating, and they had already survived so many of those. It was true that Father would be angry that Izr-Damien and his beautiful pet had slipped out from under his rule, denying the Demon Lord a form of amusement he currently enjoyed.

It would not take long, however, before he'd probably be thankful to be rid of Izroul and though Cora was stunningly beautiful and a challenge to break, in the end, she was still a human. Her worth was limited to the Demon Lord.

Damien was very familiar with contacting their friend in the human world. After all, he WAS the one who sought out the elderly, warlock called Harold the most.

So he arranged for it to happen the following day when it was noon in the Abyssal Plains. Harold would open the portal on his side, funnel enough energy to turn the window-like portal they used to talk into a door instead, and... Damien and Cora would go. Harold asked him if the other boys would be there to see them off and when Damien changed the subject, the old man did not press him for details.

He just couldn't bring himself to tell them. He didn't know if they would be supportive, angry, or try to stop him. This was the first time he had ever put anyone or anything before them in his life, and it felt so... wrong.

Then he would look at her, catch Cora's hair flash ebony in the candlelight or see the affection bloom in her eyes when she saw him, and he would know unequivocally he had to do it. If they hated him, he'd have to bear it. He'd bear anything for her.

He should have known she'd see through his anguish and uncertainty.

Late in the afternoon on the day before they were set to leave, Cora walked towards him with a gentle smile and settled herself on his lap. She stroked his hair just how he liked, soft fingers soothing away his stress and his nerves. He hummed happily and went to kiss her, but she gently pulled back. When he opened his eyes to look at her, she met his gaze with a worried one of her own. He hadn't been listening to anything she was thinking, busy with his own concerns, and now he wondered if he had missed something important.

"You need to tell them," she told him gently.

Damien sighed, rubbing little circles on her hips. "Cora, I-"

She cut him off with a raise of her hand, her eyes demanding he listen. He sighed a bit ruefully but obeyed the silent request.

"If we leave but a part of you despises yourself for 'betraying' your family, we'll never really leave," she told him. "I mean it, Izroul, we have to-"

"Damien," he corrected automatically.

Cora glared at him for the interruption but continued. "As I was saying, if we have to leave, give them a chance to accept it or voice their concerns. They love you; you love them. They deserve that opportunity."

Damien was quiet as he thought it over. She was right, on a certain level, but so was he and he knew his brothers better than she did. It was not an easy decision to make and he closed his eyes as his mind tried once again to sort out all the positive and negative consequences of his choice.

\---

Izroul stared at the ground in front of him. How long had he been here exactly? It was impossible to tell.

The passage of days and weeks seemed to have no meaning in the dungeons and he spent the majority of time lost in a world of his own making. His scars, while nothing like his mothers, cut deeply into his skin as they crisscrossed in sickening patterns across his back and ribs. It was becoming harder for them to make him bleed because too much scar tissue had built up, strong and resilient. Izroul's torture was not with knives or anything else at all exempting a single whip. It was also not done by the Demon Lord, but rather by any number of servants on a rotating basis. He knew he had never been particularly liked by most of the demons on this plane; indeed, Izroul was well ware he was strongly disliked by most. He had, however, underestimated the number of people who seemed to thoroughly HATE him and took great pleasure in causing him agony.

His brothers must have forgotten him, he realized, because no one came for him. He wondered if they were angry that he had planned to leave without telling them. It had seemed like the right choice at the time. Maybe they actually thought he had left and that's why they didn't look for him. No son of the Demon Lord entered the dungeons willingly without a purpose.

He hadn't heard Cora's thoughts since the very beginning, since she had screamed as the Demon Lord carried her away, thrown bodily over his shoulder. Izroul would never forget that moment for as long as he lived; her tortured eyes, the way her mind shrieked with fear. The fear wasn't even for herself, it was for HIM and what would be done to him for daring to defy his father. He didn't know what happened after that.

When the Pig Faun had caught him preparing the spell to leave the night before, he had been caught off guard. His wards didn't give him enough time to hide what he was doing and he was, apparently, the last to be sent for. The Demon Lord, it seemed, had decided he liked watching the boys with their pets so much the first time, he wanted to do another 'training' session. There had been nothing for it, not when he was caught in the act and not when the Pig Faun immediately summoned the Demon Lord to the room.

Izroul heard the sound of someone coming towards his area of the dungeon but he didn't look up. They'd just cover his head with a hood and drag him somewhere else anyway, probably after shoving a potion or two down his throat to make sure he lived. The shackles kept him from being able to do any sort of demon magic. There was nothing to do but wait.

The servant arrived soon enough and Izroul allowed himself to blinded by the fabric without protest. He was drug from the cell and as always, he didn't resist them but he didn't help them either. He noticed he was being dragged much further than usual but since he couldn't see, there weren't a great many landmarks to attempt to figure out his destination. Izroul did note that the number of thoughts he could hear increased dramatically for a short time before they petered out and, again, only the thoughts of the servants were heard.

He listened to a door open as he was wrenched forward before it closed behind him, felt wood smacking his shins as he was pulled down a flight of stairs, but then, THEN he heard HER. He barely stifled a gasp at hearing her voice again, even if it sounded like it was coming through static, even if it was only her thoughts, even if it was saying the same thing over and over again.

 _'Bathtub... shelf... bed... nightstand... mirror... stars... sun... rain... Cora..._ Izroul _. Bathtub... shelf...'_

When they finally reached the bottom, one of his hands was unshackled before he was dropped to the ground and seemingly left alone. He waited for all but her thoughts to recede completely. Once they had, he tentatively removed his hood and realized they were in his old room. Cora sat on the bed with her knees tucked under her, staring in front of her and breathing evenly. His heart thumped loudly as he took her in before he felt an overwhelming longing build in his chest.

"Cora..." Izroul whispered, his voice hoarse and broken even to his own ears. Cora closed her eyes and took a few deep breaths. Her thoughts changed slightly before returning to her chant.

 _'It's not him, it's not him,'_ he head Cora repeat a few times in the space of her mind. Then she opened her eyes and started all over again.

_'Bathtub... shelf... bed...'_

"Cora, please. It IS me," he croaked, staring at her beautiful, empty face.

_'Nightstand... mirror... stars...'_

He stood on shaky legs and crossed the room to settle in front of her. Her eyes looked right through him, as if he was nothing more than fog. "Look at me, Cora. It's Izroul. I love you, sweetheart. I love you."

_'Sun... rain... Cora...'_

He cupped her face and brought his forehead to hers, desperate to be seen and to feel her love, if only for a moment. He ran his fingers through her hair and across her cheekbones with shaky, desperate fingers.

"Please, sweetheart," he begged brokenly. "Please come back to me."

 _'..._ Izroul _...'_

Cora's breath hitched slightly and she closed her eyes as if to block him out.

 _'_ Izroul _is dead,'_ Izroul heard her tell herself. _'Bathtub... shelf... bed...'_

He sobbed at that; he wasn't dead, he was right in front of her! All his life he had been despised or ignored. But not by Cora; Cora loved him. She LOVED him, the only one who CHOSE him. His brothers had loved him, they were good men and they were his brothers. But Cora WANTED him, Cora SAW him but now, NOW he sat right in front of her and she couldn't see him at all.

He heard the throaty laugh of the Demon Lord at the door, but when Izroul spat out his question, he kept his eyes focused on Cora.

"What did you do to her?" he demanded, his voice strained with sorrow and rage.

"I didn't DO anything to her. Never touched her, not once since that first time in training." He laughed again, sadistic delight dripping from the sound. "No, Bastard Son, I never physically hurt her. Instead, I brought you in, or at least someone that she thought was you, and then I killed you in front of her. Every. Single. Time."

"It's brilliant, isn't it?" Father said with a wide smile. "I didn't just kill you every day though, oh no. Sometimes, you stayed for weeks; made other escape plans, FUCKED, said 'I love you', the whole thing. And every time, it ended with me killing you."

Izroul was shaking, overwhelmed and so unbelievably sad, begging her in a quiet voice to just look at him, just look in his eyes.

"I EVEN had this conversation with you a couple times; that was a stroke of mother fucking genius because the first time, she completely believed it. Because I explained it to you, she thought 'It's really him'." He smirked. "Didn't think she'd get back up from that one, but look at her. Isn't she thriving, Izroul? Didn't you do such a GOOD job keeping her safe?"

Izroul ignored him and laid down on the bed, pulling her down with him so he could lay behind her and whisper to her. She offered no resistance and no indication she could hear him or his father. The Demon Lord left then, for how long he couldn't know, and Izroul cried into Cora's hair for hours.

He hadn't killed Izroul; not yet.

But he had killed a part of Cora, the part that allowed in hope, and he wasn't sure how he would ever get it back.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Song for this Chapter:  
> Skylar Grey - Back From The Dead ft. Big Sean, Travis Barker  
> https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=XjqRpC0EglA


End file.
